


Isolation

by SpellStorm



Series: Daughter of Mine [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpellStorm/pseuds/SpellStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dying girl. A lonely doctor. The companionship of a lifetime. One year after the Chitauri invasion, Bruce may have finally found happiness.</p><p> </p><p>  <b> I am currently going over and rereading the existing chapters before writing any more. I am going to take my time and rewrite what I think needs to be rewritten. Please be patient with me during this process.</b></p><p> </p><p>  <i>After seeing Age of Ultron (twice), I became inspired to start work again on this story. There will be changes made based on the movie, mainly concerning some of the pairings. However, due to the timeline of this fic, the events of AoU never happened (no Scarlett Witch and Quicksilver, etc.)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to write a lot of stories about lonely doctors finding kids. Oh, well, I just do what the voices tell me.
> 
> JK. If you didn't get that.
> 
> Anyway, I don't own anything except any unrecognized characters. If you don't know them, I made them.
> 
> This story is also posted on FanFiction under the same title and pen name.

Prologue

"Tony?"

Tony Stark looked up from his computer screen. His best friend, Dr. Bruce Banner, stood in the doorway of the 3rd floor lab.

"Hey, Brucie," Tony greeted. He noticed that Bruce didn't move further into the room, and that the man had an odd look on his face. "What's up?"

Bruce seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I've got something to show you."

"Alright." Tony was surprised when Bruce entered the room and pulled up another screen, typing in the code for access to the security cameras. He selected the camera for one of the unused labs and stepped back.

Tony started when he saw the image. A little girl, only four years old at most, lay on a bed of cushions and pillows. She was swathed in blankets, but with the high definition camera, Tony could see the sheen of sweat covering her face. This girl was obviously very sick.

He turned to stare at his friend. "Who is she?"

Bruce swallowed nervously. "Her name is Sydney. She's three years old."

"And why is she in my tower?"

"You know how the other day I found out about that low-income orphanage in Brooklyn the other day, and I decided to go there and see the kids?"

"Yeah..." Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know where this was going.

"Well, I went earlier today. The lady who runs the place asked me if I knew of any doctors who would be willing to help one of the kids for little payment - the orphanage isn't doing very well; they can barely afford to feed all the kids. I told her I'm a doctor and I'd be glad to help.

"The room she led me to was in the back of the house - because that's all it is, an old broken down house. Inside was a little girl. I could tell from just looking at her that she was gravely ill. I knew what it was, too; I'd seen it before, when I was in the Middle East. It's not common in the US, and it's highly contagious to other children.

"Since I know the treatment she needs, I offered to take her someplace where I could cure her without risking the health of any other kids. I wrapped her up, brought her here, and put her in the basement lab, where there's no risk of anyone else contracting the illness."

Tony stared at Bruce, who shifted uncomfortably. "It's not very contagious to adults. And besides, I'll be the only one who goes down there. I had it once, a long time ago. I can't get it again. I know I should've talked to you first, but she needs help now. If she doesn't get the medication she needs soon, she'll die."

Eventually, Tony nodded. "Alright. As long as she stays down there until she's not contagious, I don't have a problem. But keep your phone with you while you're with her in case you need anything. I'll supply you with whatever you need."

Bruce visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Tony."

He nodded again. "Of course. Want me to tell the rest of the team?"

"Please. I've gotta get back to Sydney."

"Go ahead." Tony tilted his head. "You okay there, Big Guy?" Bruce seemed a bit tense still. And was that nervousness he detected?

"Of course I am." Bruce nodded and left.

Tony sighed. Something was definitely going on. He wished Bruce would talk to him, but that's the thing about isolation: no matter how many people surround you, you're always alone.

_~Isolation~_

"There you go," Bruce murmured as he held the bottle to Sydney's lips and watched as she latched on and began drinking.

It had been three days since Bruce had brought Sydney to Stark Tower, and he had yet to leave the basement lab. Tony had sent down a constant supply of food, clothes, and the various herbs required to make the three-year-old's medicine. He'd supplied Bruce with a cot when the doctor refused to leave Sydney's side.

Sydney's fever had yet to break, but at least it wasn't sky high any longer. The medicinal drink was obviously doing its job. The child was now able to keep down regular 2% cow milk, apple juice, and orange juice, as well as pieces of fruit and cups of yogurt. Bruce was confident that the girl would soon be back to normal.

He'd had Steve make a trip to the orphanage for Sydney's file. He was curious about the child's family and why such an adorable kid was an orphan. He'd been shocked when he read that Sydney had been abandoned at the hospital the day she was born, and no one had been able to locate her parents. She had no other family to look after her and was sent to the orphanage a week after birth.

Sydney finished the bottle and let out a small burp. Bruce laughed. "Excuse you!" he said. He looked to the side and picked a book from the stack on the table. "Let's read _If You Give A Mouse A Cookie_ ," he told Sydney.

The girl clapped happily. She had yet to speak, although Bruce knew she should already be at her age. She communicated her emotions through sounds and movement. He would have to teach her how to talk soon.

Bruce was startled at his thoughts. Since when did he start making plans concerning Sydney? She wasn't his daughter; as soon as she was healthy again, she was going back to the orphanage.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sydney yanking his brown hair. He quickly opened the book and started reading.

_~Isolation~_

"I did it!"

Everyone looked up as Bruce came jogging into the room, obviously worked up. They were shocked to see him: he hadn't come up from the basement for a week.

"Did what?" Natasha Romanoff asked.

Bruce's face was lit up. "Sydney's fever broke last night."

The Avengers looked at one another. They all knew how much this meant to their teammate.

"That's great, Big Guy," Tony said. "So she's all set to go back?"

Bruce's face fell. Everyone could see him debating something.

"Actually," Bruce began. "I was thinking of adopting her."

It was a rare sight to see the Avengers silent, but it was one of those moments. Everyone was trying to wrap their heads around Bruce's announcement. They'd always thought he needed someone to occupy him so he didn't spend all his time in the lab, but a child? Bruce had always been wary of children, fretting over the Hulk's reaction to their oftentimes rough behavior.

Steve Rogers finally spoke up. "You're sure?" he asked.

Bruce nodded confidently. "I know I've said I don't feel comfortable having kids around me all the time, but after spending the past week with Sydney, I don't think I could bear to let her go. She's such a sweet girl, and I think she'd like it here. Besides, she's not getting the education she needs at the orphanage. She's almost four years old and can't even speak yet. She needs better care than what she can get there. I really think it's the right decision."

Everyone let the thought of a child at Stark Tower sink in. It was hard to imagine, but then again, it hadn't seemed likely that the six of them would all get along if they lived in one place, but there they all were, completely content. Well, all except for Thor, who alternated between his people on Asgard and his girlfriend Jane in New Mexico.

Ultimately, they all knew it was Tony's decision; they were, after all, living in his tower. Everyone turned to him.

After a moment, Tony nodded. "If you think you can handle caring for a toddler, then she's welcome to stay."

No one had ever seen Bruce happier.

_~Isolation~_


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has skipped eleven years ahead, so it's now the year 2024. (Prologue takes place 2013, one year after the Chitauri/Loki fight) There will be plenty of flashbacks of Sydney's childhood.

Chapter One

"Good morning, Sydney. It is 6:30 AM on Thursday, April fourteenth, 2024. It will be sunny today with a low of 65 degrees Fahrenheit and a high of 71 degrees Fahrenheit. The current temperature is 68 degrees Fahrenheit."

I groan and bury my face in my pillow. "Thank you, JARVIS," I mumbled.

"Of course, Sydney."

After laying still for a moment, I roll out of my big, warm bed and shove my feet into my slippers. I pad to my walk in closet and stare at the contents for almost ten minutes. Finally, I grab a few hangers and slip on a pair of black skinny jeans, a white camisole under a grey striped quarter-sleeve top, and navy socks. In my bathroom, I wet down my already-curly hair and add mousse to tame the brown corkscrews.

After making my bed, I head out of my room and down the hall to the elevator at the end. The doors close and I'm automatically taken to the 4th floor.

There are amazing smells wafting out from the kitchen. There are already three people at the breakfast bar, along with a man standing at the counter.

The only woman in the room looks up and smiles. "Morning, Sydney," she greets.

"Morning, Natasha." I walk over to the blond-haired man at the counter. "What's for breakfast, Steve?" I ask, standing on my toes to try and peer over his shoulder.

Steve smile at me. "Pancakes."

"Yum!" Steve makes the best pancakes I've ever tasted.

"How'd you sleep, Syd?" one of the men at the bar asks.

"Really well. Don't worry, Clint," I tease, "I got enough sleep last night. I'm perfectly awake."

"Whatever you say, Syddie-girl!" the third man in the room exclaims cheerily.

I groan at the awful nickname.

"Are you torturing my daughter again, Tony?" a voice asks.

A man with short, curly brown hair and brown eyes comes into the kitchen, a playful smile on his face as he looks at his best friend.

"Course not, Big Guy," Tony replies, deadpan. "I'm insulted you'd insinuate such a thing."

Bruce Banner just rolls his eyes and smiles.

I've been told by Steve that Bruce used to smile only rarely, and that he only joked when forced. Looking at him now, I can't see it. He's just so carefree, so happy. It seems impossible that only eleven years ago he'd been so withdrawn.

They all say it was me that brought him out.

"Speaking of my daughter," Bruce begins. He puts an arm over my shoulder. "How are you this morning, my Sydney Bean?"

I giggle. "I'm great, Dad."

"Oh, come on," Tony whines. "He gets to call you Sydney Bean, but I can't call you Syddie-girl? How is that fair?"

"It's not," I reply. "How would I ever have fun if I let you call me Syddie-girl without complaining?" I may be Bruce Banner's daughter, but growing up around Tony Stark has had some effect on my personality.

Steve turns from the griddle. "Food's done!"

Everyone gathers around the breakfast bar and digs into the steaming pancakes and crispy bacon.

Of all of us, Steve is pretty much the only one allowed to use the kitchen. I mean, we all come and go as we please, but we're limited to the use of the microwave, the blender, and the toaster. Each of us has almost set something on fire at least once.

"Who's on language today?" I ask Natasha.

She swallows a sip of tea. "I have a meeting with Fury. Thor's in New Mexico right now; he should be back in time for your lesson."

I nod. Thor is the only Avenger who doesn't live solely in Stark Tower. He alternates between here, Asgard, and New Mexico. The majority of his time on Earth is spent in New Mexico with his girlfriend Jane. I don't know why they haven't made it official yet; they're both obviously in love. But for whatever reason, they haven't gotten married. If they don't soon, I might just go crazy.

I listen to Dad and Tony bicker. Clint is talking to Steve about some archery thing, with Toshie - as only I can call her - joining in occasionally.

Yep. Life as usual.

_~Isolation~_

When I was five, I told Dad I wasn't going to school.

It was something the adults had been debating. I'd been living in Stark Tower for two years, and the Avengers had yet to release the news of my adoption. No one wanted to have to explain the situation to the world. Bruce was - and still is - more well known as Hulk than by his actual name, but that would change if everyone knew about me. They'd ask who adopted me, and then they'd want to know who Dr. Bruce Banner was, and then everyone would be outraged that someone who turned into a giant green monster that smashed everything in its path was allowed to be responsible for a child.

One night, when I was supposed to be in bed, I snuck down to the second floor, where I knew they all gathered in the training room every other night to work out. But this time no one was doing much of anything. Instead, they all sat or stood around the large room, talking about me. I'm not one to eavesdrop, but I was still young and convinced they were going to send me back to the orphanage someday.

"I just don't know if she'd be able to handle it," Bruce was saying.

"It's kindergarten, Bruce. Not brain surgery," Tony replied.

"I know, but she's small for her age, and she still stumbles over words. I went to public school; I know how bad kids can be, even five-year-olds."

Steve had spoken, then, and I remember being startled by the hardness in his tone. "Then she shouldn't go."

(Later I found out that there's nothing Steve hates more than bullies, of any kind.)

"But this is an important experience!" Natasha butted in. "Are you planning on keeping her locked away her whole life? Cause I don't know if you forgot, but eventually Rapunzel left the tower!"

Thor turned his head suddenly. "The little one is present."

Everyone had turned to look at me. I lowered my head and walked into the room.

Bruce gave me a stern look. "What are you doing out of bed, Sydney?"

I looked up at him with big, wet eyes. "I don't wanna go."

His expression was pure confusion. "Don't wanna go where?"

"I don't wanna go to school. I wanna stay with you and Tony and Toshie and Clint and Stevie and Thor and JARVIS!" Okay, so maybe JARVIS isn't an actual person. I hadn't known that.

"Are you sure, Sydney?" Bruce asked.

I nodded. "I wanna stay."

And so it'd been agreed amongst the team of heroes that I would be homeschooled, and they would teach me.

I don't regret my decision. I have my family and am perfectly content with my life as is.

It's one of the many ways that I really am Bruce's daughter: I don't need to be surrounded by tons of people. I just need to be accepted and loved.

_~Isolation~_

"...So when the Trojans were asleep, the Greek soldiers snuck out of the hollow wooden horse and attacked. Many Trojans died, although some fled and found refuge in Rome. And that was the downfall of Troy."

I stare at the blond-haired man. "So there was an entire war... because a guy kidnapped someone else's wife?"

Steve nods. "But you have to keep in mind that Helen was the queen of Sparta, and Paris was just a prince of Troy. It wouldn't have been acceptable anyway, but since they were both royalty, it constituted war."

"That's ridiculous. Why would Paris do that?"

"He claimed they had fallen in love. Since this was Ancient Greece and everyone believed in the gods, Paris concluded that it must have been Aphrodite, who is...?"

"The goddess of love."

"Perfect." Steve checks the clock. "And that's class. See you at lunch."

I stand up and hug him. "Bye, Stevie!"

Five minutes later I arrive at a steel door and the second floor. I type in the code and step inside when the door slides open.

"Tony!" I shout.

I hear a _clang_ near one of the many worktables. Tony stands up, rubbing his forehead.

"Hey, Sydney," he says, obviously trying to play off his incident.

I stifle a laugh. "You okay there?"

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

I just shake my head and smile.

As Tony bends down to pick up whatever it is he's working on (I've found that it's usually better not to ask), I hop up onto an unoccupied table.

"So what's the plan for today?" I ask, swinging my legs.

Tony wipes his hands on a cloth. "I figured that ol' Brucie would want us to work on your Geometry..."

I groan.

"...but then I decided I don't feel like explaining corresponding and vertical angles to you today. So we're going to work on my helmet."

I grin. "Awesome!"

The best thing about Tony being my math teacher is that we normally only do the subject twice or so a week. The rest of the time is spent working on some new invention of his or updating his Iron Man suit. Sometimes he even lets me mess around on the computer and challenges me to design something.

Tony and I work on his Iron Man helmet for an entire hour, adding updates and tweaking some of the wiring a bit. I've always been fascinated by his suit (okay, so when I was little, I just liked the colors; so sue me) and when he lets me help I always jump at the opportunity.

Once our hour is up, I reluctantly hug Tony goodbye and make my way to the elevator, where JARVIS automatically transports me to the fifth floor.

I stop at the open door beside the elevator and peer inside.

Dad is bent over a lab table, head down as he focuses on whatever is before him. His glasses are on for once, which is a very rare occurrence because he's always afraid of losing them.

I find it amazing, how much I know about this man. I know that he rarely wears shoes, not even at SHIELD meetings; that his fingers twitch when he's forced to sit still for long periods of time; that, on the days he's forced to release the Hulk for battle, he sneaks into my room at night and curls up beside me on my bed to sleep. I know all his little quirks. Even after eleven years I still haven't gotten used to it.

I watch Bruce silently for a moment before clearing my throat. His head swings around.

"Hey, Sydney Bean," he greets, grinning widely.

"Hi, Dad," I reply. I quickly walk to my lab table and call up a computer screen. When it appears, I enter a program and go to my saved work from Friday.

Is my dad supposed to be my science teacher? Yes. Does he ever really teach me science? Not since I was ten.

Most of the time, I'm working as Dad's assistant, helping him with little projects, figuring out equations and such. Yes, I'm only fourteen, but age doesn't matter much when your dad's a scientific genus, one of your "uncles" is a scientific genus, and you're almost always in the labs with them growing up.

Dad and I are experimenting with an ordinary home security system, attempting to alter it so that, in the event someone is forgetful and doesn't turn it on, it will automatically switch on and only allow those who have an established password to enter at a set time. Yeah, I know we could just use JARVIS and save ourselves some headache, but where's the fun in that?

We've been working for about ten minutes when Dad brings it up.

"I heard a class from a high school in Brooklyn visited the Museum of Natural History last week."

I nod, eyes on the interface screen before me.

He's silent for a moment. "A group of juniors are taking a trip to Washington D.C. next month."

"Mm-hmm," I murmur. "Try connecting the yellow wire to the blue one."

He does as I suggest. "There's a senior class going to France as a senior trip."

I sigh and turn to him. "I know what you're doing, so you can stop hinting and just say it."

Bruce straightens and looks me in the eye. "I hate homeschooling you."

I wait patiently. I've learned that when Bruce has something to say, he usually starts out with a statement, and the statement hardly ever means what it sounds like.

A moment later, he continues. "I hate that you're always stuck here, in the Tower, learning from six people who aren't always going to be able to teach. I hate that we're the only people you talk to. I hate that you don't have friends your age that you can call up and got the movies and shopping with. I hate that because of me, you don't have a social life."

I make sure he's finished before speaking.

"I made the choice to have you teach me. I'm the one who refused to go to kindergarten. I'm the one who was too afraid to leave the Tower without one of you. I'm the one who decided to stay even after I got older. It was my choice, Dad. I made it, and I take full responsibility for the results."

He goes to speak but I continue.

"I'm not stuck in the Tower; you guys take me shopping, out to eat, to see the lights at Christmas time. When you leave to fight, I like waiting for you to come home so I can lounge around with you while you recuperate. I don't only talk to you; I talk to Pepper and Jane and Maria, too. I don't need 'friends my age'; I'm comfortable with you guys. I also don't need a 'social life'; I've got one with all of you.

"I don't need to go to public school, Bruce. I'm happy where I am."

I hardly ever call my dad Bruce. He knows I'm serious.

"Okay," he relents, and I relax. But a minute later, he adds, "But I still want you to meet kids your age."

I hold back a groan. "Dad, I'm not gonna go to some group for socially-deprived teens."

"No, no, of course not," he agrees. "I was thinking more along the lines of tours."

I'm confused. "Tours?"

Dad nods. "Tony has been thinking about opening up the Tower for tours, seeing as it's the home of the Avengers and everyone wants to see inside. Plus this whole building is a huge advancement in technology. I know a lot of tours would probably be for adults, but teachers might want their students to see the wonders this place. You can be in charge of the high school tours."

I raise an eyebrow. "And Tony completely agrees with this?"

"It has received the official Tony Stark stamp of approval."

Slowly, I nod. "Okay. Yeah, I could do that."

Dad smiles, and I know he's satisfied.

For the rest of the hour, the only words spoken between us relate to our work. This allows me time to think.

I usually do whatever Dad asks. He's already adopted me, giving me a home, a last name, and a family. If he needs something from me, I strive to do it. I literally owe my life to him, after all.

School is the one thing I won't give in to. I think if I were to start now, I would be terribly overwhelmed. I'm used to one-on-one, only-when-I'm-in-the-mood teaching. If I were put in a classroom with at least fifteen other kids, I might have a nervous breakdown.

And anyway, I like it here. My classes are actually _fun_. I know all my teachers, obviously, and it's pretty easy to get them off topic when I don't feel like doing schoolwork. I'm free here, at ease, able to act like my normal self because everyone already knows how crazy I am. At a real school, I wouldn't get any of that.

When I was five, I gave up a life with friends for a life with my family. And not for one day have I ever regretted it.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Bruce's point of view. From now on, point of view will be indicated by either SPOV (Sydney's point of view) or BPOV (Bruce's point of view).

Chapter Two

It amazes me, sometimes, how much like me Sydney has turned out. We both have brunette hair, although mine is light and wavy, while hers is a shade similar to milk chocolate and unbelievably curly. We both wear glasses - and believe me, I was shocked when she ended up needing them - and, like me, she tends to walk around barefoot, foregoing shoes and socks completely. We're both able to sit for hours in comfortable silence without getting twitchy, and we're also the only two residents of Stark Tower (besides Pepper, of course) who can deal with Tony's non-stop sarcasm and not end up screaming in frustration and annoyance.

Although we have these things in common, my daughter is completely her own person. She's sweet, compassionate, and gentle. She has a mischievous side (no doubt a result of growing up around Tony) and is impeccably polite (from years of observing Steve). She's a bit on the small side, a possible side effect of her illness, but it's no indication of what she's capable of: Natasha has made sure she'll never be caught off-guard. She has what is probably a slightly unhealthy obsession with Pop Tarts (courtesy of Thor), and she tends to spend her quiet time up in the rafters - something she learned from Clint. She's a mixture of us all, and yet she so distinctly _her_ there's no way you could confuse her for anyone else.

It's one of the things about her I love most.

_~Isolation~_

"Dad!"

The sound of running footsteps comes from the hallway. Hearing my name - or at least, one of my names - I look up just in time to see my Sydney-Bean come sliding into my lab in the way she's so fond of. After numerous incidents, I rearranged my equipment so she wouldn't collide with anything when she did it.

Sydney's hair is pulled back in a French side-braid today, which is very unusual for her: most of the time she leaves it flowing freely. She never explains why anymore, but when she was younger she would complain that her hair hurt after being pulled back all day. We all laughed at her imagination.

"Your hair's back? Why, today must be a special day," I say, ducking my head to hide my barely-contained grin.

In my peripheral vision I see her stick her tongue in my direction and have to stifle my laughter.

"You know good and well what today is, Bruce Banner." Most parents are bothered by their children calling them by their first name. Me?... Not so much.

"Of course I do, Sydney. It's Friday."

She gives me a look.

"Oh, of course! How could I forget? It's Friday the thirteenth!" It is, in fact, the twenty-second.

 _"Dad!"_ Sydney complains.

I decide to stop torturing her. "So are you excited about your first tour?"

The tours of Avengers Tower started last Saturday, two days after I spoke to Sydney about them. Since then, she's been noticeably hyper, always grinning and moving her legs constantly. Normally, I'd take this as a sign to up her ADD medicine; this time, I know the real cause.

Today is the first tour open to students, and also Sydney's first day as a guide.

"Um, Dad? You're supposed to be a genius. _Of course I'm excited!_ "

This time I don't hold back my laugh. "Well, Miss Hyper, would you like to help me with a little experiment before it's time?"

She nods enthusiastically and moves to my side, donning a white lab coat. I look at what she's wearing. For her first tour, she's chosen a strapless navy blue dress with white polka-dots, paired with white leggings, a long-sleeved white cardigan, and a pair of navy blue ballet flats. Some people (*cough* Tony *cough*) may find it odd and a little concerning that I'm able to tell exactly which clothing store each of item of Sydney's clothes comes from, and I can name specific types of shoes. I blame it on raising a girl.

"Hey, Dad?" Sydney asks.

I look over at her, but her eyes are on the holo-screen in front of her, skimming through my notes.

"Yes, Sydney-Bean?"

Her lips twitch slightly at the nickname. "My hair's been hurting again."

The revelation startles me; she hasn't so much as mentioned it since she turned seven. We all assumed it was a silly child's fantasy. But now...

"Hurting how?" I inquire calmly.

She sighs. "I don't know. Just, sometimes I feel like it wants to do something, but can't, but it's still preparing for it. Like, you know how sometimes you're trying to think of a word, and you think about it so hard your head starts to hurt? It's like that, only worse. It feels like my curls are coiled up so tightly, and they don't have anywhere to go, so they stay like that, waiting for the chance to explode outward. And it hurts. It hurts so much. It used to only be a little, like when I had my hair pulled back all day, but now it doesn't even matter. I still feel it."

Her voice is so serious, there's no chance she's joking. Her hair honestly hurts her.

"Does it hurt now?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "It stopped a few minutes ago."

I nod slowly. "Alright. Alright, let me do some research, and after the tour we'll see how you feel."

She nods in agreement and slips off her coat. "I should head down to the lobby; the class should be here soon."

I say goodbye and watch her go before clearing my workspace and calling up a new screen. I enter the search engine and begin typing.

_~Isolation~_

Five hours later, everyone is seated in the dining room for dinner. Thor's girlfriend of 13 years, Dr. Jane Foster, has come up from her home in New Mexico for the weekend.

Steve carries out a warm pan of baked macaroni and cheese and sets it on the table. "Alright, dig in."

We all take turns passing the pan around the table, scooping mounds off gooey noodles onto our plates. As I pass it to Sydney, I notice her face looks pale.

"Sydney, are you feeling alright?"

After she'd finished giving her tour, Sydney checked in with me and said she felt perfectly fine. I let her go back to her room and finish her homework from Thursday while I continued my research. She hasn't said anything else about it. But now I begin to worry.

Everyone looks up and sees Sydney's face.

"I'm kind of dizzy... and my head feels fuzzy..."

As she trails off, we all freeze and stare.

Sydney's curly brown hair is literally _moving_ , pulsing and writhing like Medusa's snakes.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it stops, laying back down on her shoulders and resuming their natural length.

Sydney sees everyone looking at her. "What?"

I shake my head. "Nothing. I'll take your temperature after dinner; maybe you're just getting a cold. That can make you feel off-balance sometimes."

She looks at me with a strange expression. "What are you talking about? I feel fine."

She turns back to her food and doesn't notice the rest of us exchanging looks. I shake my head slightly, silently communicating with the others to not say anything. I don't know what just happened, but I'm going to make sure I find out.

"Hey, Daddy?" Sydney asks.

The only time she ever calls me that anymore when she wants something. "Yes, Sydney-Bean?"

"Can we have tomorrow night, tonight?" Her eyes are wide and innocent.

I sigh. "Alright. Put your plate in the dishwasher and then get into your pajamas."

She squeals her happiness and jumps to do as I said.

Once she's out of earshot - which is basically the kitchen; hey, she's only human - I notice the amused looks on everyone's faces.

"What?" I ask.

Clint smirks at me. "Are you ever _not_ going to fall for that?"

I pointedly ignore the sarcastic remark and turn back to my meal, blocking out the others' snickering.

_~Isolation~_

Movie night. A trial all families must overcome. It's one of those things that tries your patience, forces you to use everything in you to stay sane.

However, for my family, movie night isn't a trial - it's an all-out war.

"I'm picking the movie!"

"Tony, we are NOT watching _The Dark Knight Rises_ again!"

"But it's a good movie!"

"Pepper, Tony's trying to make us watch Batman again!"

"That's nice, tell the wife. Tattle-tale."

"Tony, no Spider-Man."

"But -"

"You play it, I'm restricting your access to your workshop for a week."

"Now that's a low blow."

_"Miss Jane, your friend Miss Darcy is on the line."_

"Thank you, JARVIS."

"We still need to pick a movie!"

"How about -"

"We are NOT watching Batman!"

_"ENOUGH!"_

Everyone looks at Pepper Stark. Her hands are on her hips as she stares the two feuding men down. "You two can't make a decision so I will." She turns to my daughter. "Sydney, what would _you_ like to watch?"

All eyes are on her as she thinks. " _The Hunger Games_ ," she decides.

JARVIS brings up the main menu as everyone settles down. There are four huge bowls overflowing with popcorn on the coffee table. (What? Some of us metabolize fast, thank you very much!) Jane comes back from her phone call and takes a seat next to Thor, curling up against the Norse God of Thunder's side. Pepper does the same with Tony, while Steve settles himself on Tony's other side, where only a moment ago he was fighting for the unnecessary TV remote. I find it extremely amusing to watch Steve argue about the things that seem so simple, but that he had no knowledge of only a few years before. He's learned so much since waking up from his "ice nap" (as Tony refers to it). Tasha sits on the other side of Thor.

I lean back against the cushions on the end of the couch and hold out my arms in invitation. Sydney backs up until she's sitting on the cushions between my legs. I wrap my arms around her waist as she settles back into my chest. This is how we always sit. To any outsider, it would probably seem awkward, maybe a bit weird, but we feel more comfortable when we're close. It's comforting having her near me, where I can always keep her safe, and she's told me it makes her feel secure. A bit odd, maybe, but it's been our way for years, no matter how tall she grows.

Tony tells JARVIS to play the movie. About an hour and a half into the film, Sydney gets up and joins Clint where he's perched atop the bookcase. I suppress a grin.

By the time the movie's over, we've eaten about half the popcorn (the other half is scattered across the room) and everyone is falling asleep. Clint catches Sydney as she slides to the ground and steadies her on her feet.

"Did you like the movie, Sydney?" Natasha asks.

She nods enthusiastically. "It was great! I think it's a pretty good adaption of the book."

"I enjoyed it, too!" Tony volunteers.

Steve raises an eyebrow. "You did?"

Tony nods seriously. "That Katniss girl has great aim. Now I've got another name for Clint."

The assassin in question groans as the rest of us stifle our laughter.

"Alright, Syd," I say. "Off to bed. Say goodnight."

I watch as she goes around the room distributing hugs to each person before saying a collective "Goodnight" and heading down the hall to her room.

Ten minutes later I knock on her door and stick my head in. "All done?"

She nods. I walk in and sit on the edge of her full black sleigh bed. "Did you have fun tonight?" I'm not referring to the movie, but rather the huge popcorn battle that ensued during the uprising in District 11 (courtesy of Tony).

"Totally! Even though I got hit the most. I think there's still popcorn salt on my face."

I laugh. "Don't worry; I'm pretty sure you tied with Pepper and Jane."

"Human reflexes suck."

My face suddenly grows serious. "There's nothing wrong with being human. You know that, right?" What I'm really asking is, _You know I try to understand when you need me, right?_

This is a conversation we've had before. By this point, I doubt Sydney is able to be surprised by it.

She nods. "Of course. I'm perfectly happy the way I am."

I smile again. "I am, too." I tap her nose with my finger. She giggles, as I know she knows I expect her to, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I'm sure mine doesn't either.

I hug her tightly and murmur a goodnight before exiting the room and shutting the door behind me.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several languages spoken in this chapter. The translations will be in the end note.

Chapter Three

_"Has he lost his mind?  
Can he see or is he blind?  
Can he walk at all?  
Or when he moves, will he fall?_

_Is he live -"_

"Tony!" I shout. "Shut up!"

"Aww, come on, Syddie-girl," he complains, walking up to me and placing an arm around my shoulders. "You're killing my buzz!

"I'm gonna be killing something else if you don't stop singing that dumb song."

"But it's the truth! I _am_ Iron Man!"

"TONY!"

"Alright, alright. Calm your horses."

"Oh believe me, if I had horses they'd be stomping you into the ground right now."

"Hey, there you are, Sydney," Natasha says as she walks into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she pours herself a glass of orange juice. "Have a good morning off class?"

I smile. "You bet!"

My morning lessons had been cancelled for the day due to "unprecedented circumstances" - basically meaning there's hardly anyone in the Tower to teach me. Steve is in London visiting an old friend, Thor is supposedly back on Asgard (although I suspect he's with Jane again), and Clint is most likely hiding from Tasha somewhere in the rafters or air ducts (don't ask).

Nat glances at Tony and turns to me with a wicked gleam in her eye.

_"Hoe lang is hij al in?"_

I smirk but quickly school my features. _"Vain parinkymmenen minuutin! Hän vain tekee sen provosodia minua."_

In my peripheral vision, I see Tony's eye twitch. Oh gosh, me and Tasha are terrible. But it's so much fun to irritate him!

Nat quickly replies. _"Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas le frapper encore? Ça va le faire taire."_

_"Nah. Pabbi myndi ekki vera vitalus, en ólíkt pér, ég ekki eins og fólk óttast mig."_

She rolls her eyes. _"Qualunque cosa. Hai visto Clint?"_

I motion discreetly to the ducts above us.

Tasha rolls her eyes again and, sighing, drains her juice and jogs into the hall toward the nearest vent.

I turn to see Tony glaring at me.

"What?" I ask innocently. He grumbles something and stomps off as I stifle a giggle.

Although he has contacts and attends meetings around the world, Tony Stark has never taken the time learn an foreign languages. Which makes it oh so easy to mess with him by speaking in multiple dialects in front of him. One thing you should know about Tony: He HATES not knowing what's going on.

Above me, I hear a _thud_ and then Clint's voice. "No! Tasha! I don't want to go to training!"

As his shouted protests fade away, I begin to laugh.

_~Isolation~_

I can remember my life pretty well, more-so than most people, I think. Maybe it's because my time in Stark Tower is such a vast change from life in the orphanage that my mind decided to save everything.

My fifth birthday is probably one of my favorite memories. I'd been a resident of the Tower for about two years and had already fully adjusted with perfect ease.

Why did I enjoy my fifth birthday so much? Because of Snoopy.

I'd dropped hints repeatedly about how much I wanted a puppy. As a little girl, it was probably one of the most important things to me. I talked about dogs for months, working up to dropping the birthday wish on my family. I was so sure they wouldn't say no.

Then I'd found out Steve is allergic to animal fur.

I was devastated but refused to let it show; I didn't want Steve to feel bad. He couldn't control what he was allergic to. I began spending time in my room, surrounded by my stuffed dog collection, pretending they were alive and needed to be cared for.

On the day of my fifth birthday, the team - plus Pepper, Jane, Darcy, and Agent Maria Hill from SHIELD - played games with me, watched movies, and ate cake for lunch. When it came to present time, I got a bunch of cool stuff, including more stuffed dogs and a Polly Pocket set. Soon, the only people left who hadn't given me anything were Steve and Tony. This is the part I remember most clearly.

_FLASHBACK_

_Steve crouched down in front of me. "Sydney," he started. "I know how much you've been wanting a puppy, and you don't know how bad I feel that you can't have a real one because of my allergy."_

_I started to interrupt, to tell him it was okay, but he held up a hand to stop me and continued. "So I talked to Tony, and he agreed to collaborate with me on your birthday present. Do you know what collaborate means?"_

_I shook one head._

_"It means we worked together." He looked at Tony and nodded._

_Tony put an unwrapped cardboard box with holes in my lap. The box seemed to pulse slightly. Confused, I lifted the lid and gasped._

_Inside lay a sleeping dog. It wasn't a puppy exactly, but still young. It looked like a beagle._

_At the sound of my gasp, the dog lifted it's head and gave me a doggy smile, its pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. It stood up and placed its front paws against the edge of the box so it could see me._

_I looked at Steve. "But your allergies...!"_

_He shook his head. "It's not a real dog," he explained. "It's robotic. I told Tony I really wanted you to have a dog, so he made one."_

_I gaped at Tony, open-mouthed and in awe._

_He chuckled. "It doesn't need to eat or use the bathroom and it'll never get sick, but otherwise it's pretty much the same as a real dog. It'll sleep when you tell it to and you can even program it with a password to keep others from messing with it. You can teach it tricks and take it for walks, even give it baths; I made it waterproof. It'll listen to you, too; if you want it to shut up, it will."_

_"Is it a boy or girl?" I asked._

_"Either. I didn't make it gender-specific."_

_I thought. "I think I'll name you... Snoopy! 'Cause you're a beagle and Snoopy is so cute!"_

_Snoopy barked twice and wagged his tail happily._

_My eyes filled with tears and I looked at two of my uncles. "Thank you."_

_They both wrapped me in their arms and squeezed gently._

_"You're welcome," Tony said._

_"Happy Birthday, Sydney."_

_END FLASHBACK_

Getting Snoopy was probably one of the best moments of my life. A dog is a girl's best friend, and unlike a real dog, I'll never lose Snoopy. He may be a machine, an invention created in Tony's workshop, but he'll always be with me, no matter how long I live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Hoe lang is hij al in?"_ ("How long has he been at it?") - Dutch
> 
>  _"Vain parinkymmenen minuutin! Hän vain tekee sen provosodia minua."_ ("Only the past twenty minutes! He just does it to provoke me.") - Finnish
> 
>  _"Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas le frapper encore? Ça va le faire taire."_ ("Why haven't you hit him yet? That'll shut him up.") - French
> 
>  _"Nah. Pabbi myndi ekki vera vitalus, en ólíkt pér, ég ekki eins og fólk óttast mig."_ ("Nah. Dad wouldn't be mad, but unlike you, I don't like people fearing me." - Icelandic
> 
>  _"Qualunque cosa. Hai visto Clint?"_ ("Whatever. Have you seen Clint?") - Italian


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

**BVP**

Fear. It's a powerful thing. It can cover you, smother your senses, overtake your rationality. It can make you lose control, or it can make you shut down.

Eleven years ago, I can honestly tell you that I know, for a fact, fear would have made me lose control. The _Other Guy_ had a knack for appearing at the worst times, especially during life-or-death situations.

But now, after eleven years as a father, clean of any "Hulk-outs", I no longer lose control when afraid. No, now it's worse. Now, I shut down.

_~Isolation~_

It starts with JARVIS. I'm in my lab when the AI announces that there are two men in the first floor lobby asking to see me. Confused, I share a glance with Sydney, who is taking notes on a holoscreen, then take off my lab coat and hang it up. Behind me, Sydney slips her coat off as well and follows me out the door.

Immediately, I can tell something is wrong. The men in the lobby are silent, wearing crisp black suits and dark sunglasses. They stand stiffly, as if bracing for an attack. With them is a police officer in uniform, standing off to the side, observing.

I clear my throat and turn to the men. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I was told you wished to see me?"

With their sunglasses on, it's impossible to tell where they're looking. After a moment, the one on the right speaks. "Dr. Banner, my name is Agent Taylor. This is my partner, Agent Kent." He doesn't introduce the policeman.

I nod to them. "How may I help you, Agents?"

Instead of replying, Agent Taylor looks behind me. In the corner of my eye, I can see Sydney, still next to the elevator, nervously picking at her fingernails. That's always been a bad habit of hers.

"What is your name?" Taylor asks.

Sydney jumps, realizing he's speaking to her. Her eyes flit to mine and away.

"Sydney," she answers after clearing her throat.

Agent Taylor's expression is unreadable. "Sydney what?"

This time when Sydney looks at me, I nod slightly. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

She takes a deep breath. "Sydney Banner," she whispers.

I watch as Agent Taylor nods to his partner.

"Dr. Banner, my partner and I have been sent here to confirm a report of a minor living in Stark Tower. In the event that this is confirmed, we have been ordered to remove the aforementioned minor from the premises. Once off the property, the minor will become a ward of the state of New York and placed in a foster home by Social Services until a later date, to-be-determined."

I turn and watch Agent Kent walk around me and grab Sydney's arm.

I have never seen her eyes so wide with fear.

"Dr. Banner, do you hear and understand these terms?" It's only faintly and distantly that I hear Taylor's words.

"Yes," I hear myself reply unconsciously.

Agent Kent begins to pull a struggling Sydney away from the elevator. The sound of her scuffling footsteps break the spell I'm in. My eyesight sharpens and my mind clears.

"Wait," I say. "What about her things?"

"The minor will be given a furnished bedroom and new clothes," is the stiff answer.

"But she has things that she can't be without," I protest. "Things from when she was little. Comfort objects. Don't you agree that she'll need comfort at a time like this? Isn't it your job in these situations to ensure the child has what's in their best interests?"

Agent Kent is still pulling my daughter toward the doors.

"Please. Let her say goodbye."

"Sir." I jump at the sound of the policeman's voice. Up until now, he has remained a silent bystander. "It is within the girl's rights to gather personal belongings and say goodbye if she wishes."

Taylor looks at Sydney. "Do you?"

She nods frantically. Taylor nods to Kent, who releases her arm.

She runs straight into my arms. "I don't wanna go!" Her body shakes with the force of her sobs.

I rub her back and stroke her hair. "Shh," I say. "It's alright, Sydney. It's okay. Calm down, sweetheart. Everything will be alright." Even as I reassure her, I know I'm lying.

How did this happen? How did they find out? I'd done everything, absolutely _everything_ I could think of, to prevent anyone from discovering Sydney's existence. And now it's all crumbling around us.

Taylor looks at the policeman. "Officer Reyes, would you please escort the minor up to her bedroom to collect her belongings."

I struggle to keep the hatred off my face. He won't even refer to her as a girl, or a child. To him, she is not a person. To him, she is a thing, an object, a means to his next paycheck.

Officer Reyes turns to Sydney and me. "Lead the way."

_~Isolation~_

**SVP**

The elevator ride is uncomfortable, the silence - so thick you could cut it with a knife and spread it on a roll - broken only by my father's comforting words. We still have not separated; his arms are holding me close to him. It is not a tight, suffocating hold, but it still makes me feel better than anything he's saying for my benefit. And I know the words are only for my benefit. I can tell he doesn't believe a word he's saying.

The elevator stops and the doors slide open on the 4th floor, where my bedroom is located. The walk down the hall is quiet. I type in the pass-code for my door and step inside.

Dad goes to my closet and grabs a duffle bag. He puts it on my bed.

Walking slowly around my room, I look at everything, trying to decide what to pack. I know I won't be allowed to take everything; I also know I won't be allowed to come back for more. Whatever I take, it needs to be sentimental.

The police officer clears his throat. "Miss, I know this must be difficult, but the agents down there aren't going to be very patient. If I were you, I'd gather everyone you want to say goodbye to while you're packing."

Taking a deep breath, I nod. "JARVIS," I say. "Please contact everyone and ask them to gather in the living room."

"Of course, Sydney," comes the British-accented reply.

In twenty minutes, I have two full bags sitting on my bed, plus a small backpack I never knew was in my closet. I look around my room one last time, knowing in my heart I'll never see it again, and turn to the officer. "I'm ready."

He nods and grabs one bag, while Dad grabs the other and I carry the knapsack. We leave the room and take the elevator to the 6th floor.

The moment I step through the door, all six people in the living room fall silent. They all stare at me. It's as if they know what's happening, or at least that there's something wrong. It wouldn't surprise me; we've all become so close, it's easy to read one another.

Dad comes in behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Sydney's leaving."

Those two words start an uproar.

"What do you mean?!"

"Sydney's not going anywhere!"

"Where are you taking here?!"

"Why?!"

" _QUIET!_ " I shout.

Everyone shuts up.

I take a deep breath and say, in a surprisingly steady voice, "Don't yell at Dad. He didn't do anything."

"Why are you leaving?" Pepper asks with concern.

Dad is the one who answers. "Sydney's being removed from my custody by Social Services. Somehow they found out about her and didn't like it. There are two men in the lobby waiting to take her to a foster home."

He sounds calm, but it takes only one glance at his eyes to see the truth: he's terrified.

My family is looking at me in horror. Suddenly, Tony's face morphs into a mask of rage.

"They can't do that!" he shouts in anger. "They can't just take her away, we're her family!" He starts toward the hall. "I'm going to go put a stop to this right now!"

"Tony, stop."

Tony glares at my dad. "They're trying to take your daughter away! Aren't you upset? Why aren't you doing something about this?!"

My father's face is unbearably sad. "It won't help us any if you go down and hurt them, Tony. It will just prove that Sydney's not safe here. If we just go with it, if we don't resist, maybe I'll have a chance to get her back."

"And you're just going to take that risk?!"

"It's my only hope, Tony. There has to be a way to get her back."

The anger drains out of Tony's face and he nods wearily. Pepper grabs his hand and pulls him to sit on a couch, rubbing his back soothingly.

For a moment, it is silent. Then Thor speaks up. "They can do this on Midgard?" he asks. "Just take a child away from its family?"

Steve answers, his voice tight. "If there's evidence the child is being neglected or abused, then yes, they can remove it from its guardians' care."

"But what evidence do they have of any neglect or abuse in this home?"

Clint's face is hard when he replies. "Apparently, just having the ability to transform into a big green smashing machine is enough proof."

"Bruce would never lay a hand on Sydney!"

Bruce sighs. "It doesn't matter. The fact is, people consider us - _all_ of us - unpredictable. My alter ego enjoys smashing, and I don't exactly have a great record of control. Tony spends weeks at a time in his workshop, creating who-knows-what, and most of the time, his creations have the potential to be dangerous. Clint and Natasha are master assassins; that's all anyone really knows about them, but it's enough. Steve is super strong. And you, Thor, are from another realm; that's reason enough to be wary.

"To put it bluntly: they think we're a danger to Sydney."

"So they trust you enough to keep America safe, but not enough to raise a little girl?" Pepper's expression is murderous.

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from the hall. Everyone turns.

"I apologize for interrupting," Officer Reyes says, "but they aren't going to wait any longer."

I swallow hard and nod.

Natasha speaks for the first time since I came in. "We'll all walk you down."

My family gathers around me, surrounding me with a sense of security. Everyone lends me comfort.

Dad wraps in arm around my shoulders.

Steve grabs my left hand, while Thor grips my right gently.

Tony puts a guiding hand on my back.

Clint lays his hand on my left shoulder; Natasha puts hers on my head.

Pepper takes my knapsack and runs her fingers through my hair.

Then, as a family, we get in the elevator and prepare ourselves for the inevitable.

_~Isolation~_

On the ride down, I tell myself I'm going to be brave. I'm going to be mature.

Once we reach the lobby, I lose it.

After I finish hugging everyone, Agent Kent comes and grabs my arm again. It doesn't hurt, but it's uncomfortable, restraining. His face is expressionless; the only thing I can see in his sunglasses is my reflection.

He begins to pull me away, toward the doors, and I panic.

" _No!_ " I scream, struggling to pull away. "Dad!" I try to yank my arm away, but the agent's grip just tightens. I attempt to drag him back across the lobby, but he's too strong.

Agent Taylor's face is impassive, emotionless. He takes the duffle bag from my dad and my knapsack from Pepper and starts to follow Agent Kent. Officer Reyes looks like he's in pain; at least someone cares.

Dad's expression is wild. "Sydney!" He starts towards me, but Thor hold him back, tears streaming down his face. In all my years knowing him, I have never seen Thor cry. He's always been a solid rock in my life. This has broken him into tiny fragments.

" _DAD!_ " I sob.

We're out of the Tower now. On the crowded Manhattan sidewalks, people are gathered, staring in shock at the screaming, sobbing girl being manhandled outside.

By now, the team is standing in the doorway, watching in anguish as I'm dragged away.

"Daddy!" I cry. I've only rarely called him that since I was young.

"It's alright, Sydney!" he called to me. "You'll be alright!"

Then I shoved into the backseat of a black car with tinted windows, and the door is shut, and I can't hear him anymore.

Both agents climb in the front and start the car. Officer Reyes gets in next to me. He glances up front before pressing a button and raising a black sheet of metal that separates the front seats from the back.

I stare out the window as we pull away from the curb, watching until I lose sight of my family.

"I'm sorry."

I look at the policeman next to me. His eyes are trained straight ahead, but his voice is pained.

"Why?" I rasp, my voice raw from my tears.

He still doesn't look at me. "I don't know how you feel, but I can imagine. I have children of my own, you know."

"Then why are you helping them take me away?"

His tone is soft when he answers. "Because no matter how unfair, emotions can't defeat the law."

I stare at him for a moment before another sob rips its way out of my throat. I fling myself onto him, burying my face in his chest, trying to find comfort in the only person here who actually cares.

Without hesitating, he puts his arms around me and lets me cry my grief out on his shirt.

_~Isolation~_

**BVP**

"Bruce."

I don't acknowledge the voice. I haven't moved from this position since Thor guided me back to the living room after the black car was out of sight, however long ago that was.

"Bruce."

Again, I ignore the sound.

Suddenly, I'm knocked to the floor by something soft hitting my face. Shaking my head, I sit up and glare at the red-haired woman holding a pillow.

"What was that?!" I exclaim.

Her expression is hard. "Get up, Banner."

I do, slowly, because although her tone hasn't changed, the fact that she called me _Banner_ makes me listen. Nobody has called me by just my last name in years. To the team, I'm Bruce. To SHIELD, I'm Dr. Banner. And to Sydney...

I can't complete the thought.

When I'm once again seated on the couch, Natasha puts down the pillow and crosses her arms, staring me down.

"You need to stop this." It's not a request.

I don't even pretend to not understand. She means I need to stop moping. Stop sitting around and staring silently at nothing.

She means I need to stop blaming myself.

"It's my fault, Nat," I whisper. "I'm the one who got her discovered."

Natasha sits down next to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "You did nothing wrong, Bruce."

"He told me there had been a report about a teenage girl being spotted around the Tower. Someone must have seen her during a tour, maybe even one of hers. If I hadn't been trying so hard to get her more socially acquainted with others her age, she would still be here right now. She would be where she belongs. I failed her."

Tasha stares into my eyes. "Bruce. Stop that right now. Your putting Sydney in charge of tours _did not_ cause anyone to find out anything. Whoever did this, whoever filed that report, is to blame. We did everything we could to keep her protected, to keep her out of the public eye. You didn't fail anyone, Bruce. You did everything right; Sydney could never have had a better father."

The two of us are silent for several long minutes. Suddenly, my eyes begin to burn. Everything around me blurs.

"I lost her," I choke out, my voice breaking. "I lost my little girl."

Natasha wraps her arms around me and holds me close as I start to cry.

_~Isolation~_

_FLASHBACK_

_I backed out off the dark room, closing the door silently. Turning around, I stifled a surprised shout._

_"Tony!" I hissed. "What are you doing?"_

_"We need to talk," he said in a normal tone._

_"Be quiet! Sydney's sleeping." I motioned for him to follow me._

_We went to my bedroom and sat at the small dining table I'd gotten just last week, for when Sydney had her snack before nap time._

_"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, no longer angry now that we were away from Sydney's door. She hadn't wanted to go to bed; I'd had to read her five books and then sit by her bed until she fell asleep._

_"Sydney's been living here for exactly a month now. She seems perfectly happy, and you seem thrilled. How long is that going to last?"_

_I stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was asking._

_"You think this is just some temporary fascination?" I hissed. "You think I'm just intrigued with Sydney right now, but eventually I'll get bored and forget about her?"_

_"Is this permanent?"_

_"OF COURSE IT IS!" I took a deep breath, trying to control my heavy breathing. In the back of my mind, I could just feel the other part of me stir before settling down again._

_Tony just looked at me calmly._

_Once I was in control, I spoke again. "Are you saying you regret letting me adopt Sydney?"_

_"My question is: would it have stopped you from adopting her if I'd said no?"_

_"Of course not. I mean, I love living here; I love being around you and Pepper and the rest of the team. But if you had said no, I would have found an apartment and adopted her anyway. I don't think I could've let her go."_

_Tony smiled. "That's all I needed to know."_

_It was then that I understood his question. He wanted to know how committed I was to Sydney; how much I was willing to do for her._

_His answer: anything._

_After a moment of silence, Tony spoke. "What is it about her?"_

_"She's different."_

_"But how?"_

_I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face. "I don't know. Just... being around her, caring for her all day and night... I don't think I've ever felt that content in my life, even before the radiation accident. She's unlike any other child I've ever seen before. She's... special."_

_I didn't know then just how_ special _Sydney really was._

_END FLASHBACK_

_~Isolation~_

**SVP**

I stare around the small room as the door shuts behind me. There's very little furniture: a twin-sized bed in one corner, a chest of drawers in another, a small desk opposite the door. The air smells weird, sort of musty and wet. The window is a single pane of glass; there's no lock or way to open it. The fire escape outside is inaccessible.

I open the door to the tiny closet beside the bed and stare at what's hung up inside. A single hanger - containing a white quarter-sleeved button down collared shirt, a white thick-strapped tank top, and a pair of long khaki pants - dangles from the closet rod. On the floor is a pair of plain black ballet flats; folded on a shelf above the rod is a plain black jacket. I unfold it and read the words stitched onto the right shoulder: _School of Visual Arts for Girls_. A private fine arts school in New York City. The school I'll be starting at tomorrow.

Letting the jacket slip out of my hands, I sink down onto the floor and sob.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is completely Sydney's point-of-view.
> 
> Also, for the interview, italics is Carl Azuz, bold is the employee.

Chapter Five

I look up at the tall brick building and gulp. This is it. A real school. I mean, I'm not a recluse, I know what a school looks like. But I've never imagined myself inside one, not even once. To me, this is a nightmare come to life.

I tug at the bottom of my shirt nervously and head inside.

At the front desk, a woman sits behind a computer, typing away. She looks up when I clear my throat.

"Yes?" she asks.

"I'm a new student," I say. "I'm supposed to get my classroom number?"

Already something different: there's only one class. You have one classroom with one teacher who teaches you every subject. You don't even leave the room for lunch. You're there from the beginning of the school day to the next, with the exception of a rare field trip.

The lady looks at me pointedly. "Name?"

"Oh! Um, Sydney... Banner?"

I can see she wants to roll her eyes. "Don't even know your last name?" she asks as she begins typing again.

I blush. "Banner used to be my last name. I'm not sure if it still is."

She looks at me, her eyes softening. "You in Social Services?"

I nod in embarrassment.

"It's alright, sweetie. I know it's hard. Believe me, I've been through it. But everything will be alright." Her computer beeps and she turns to the screen. "Looks like you're still a Banner." She writes a three-digit number on a scrap of paper and holds it out to me. I reach out to take it, but suddenly she pulls it back and scribbles down something else.

"My sister is a lawyer," she explains, handing me the slip. On the back is a 10-digit phone number and a name: _Laurel Mace, Attorney._

I look at the secretary in confusion.

"I may not know much about you, Sydney Banner," she says, "but I know a homesick child when I see one. If you think you've been unfairly removed for your guardians' care, do something about it. Laurel helps plenty of kids who want to go back home. Just tell her Flora gave you the number. She'll be glad to help. She helped me."

My eyes mist up and I clear my throat. "Thank you, ma'am." I'm nothing if not polite: growing up with a man from the 1940s will do that to you.

She smiles softly. "It'll get better, Sydney. I promise."

After grabbing a map from the desk, I follow the hallway signs to room _313_. Gathering every ounce of my barely-there courage, I knock on the door.

A tall, thin woman opens it. Her plain red hair is pulled back into a bun so severe it looks like it'll pull her face right off. Her expression is so dull it looks like she doesn't have a soul. She gives redheads a bad name.

"May I help you?" Even her voice is emotionless.

I swallow nervously. "My name is Sydney Banner. I'm a new student, and I was told this is my class." I try to sound confident; I'm positive I fail miserably.

She nods stiffly. "Come in."

She stands to the side to make room. I take a deep, shaky breath and enter the classroom.

There had been multiple conversations going before, but the moment I step foot in the room there is only silence. Everyone is staring at me. Some look curious. Some look like they couldn't care less. Most look eager, but not in a good way; it's as if they're starving wolves, deciding if I'm worth their time to eat.

They're all girls.

The woman with the pinched face turns to me. "I assume you have your transcripts for me?"

I freeze. Transcripts? What are transcripts?

Her face morphs into a stiff sneer. "Students at this school are expected to be responsible, little girl. I think a detention will -"

"Thank you, Mrs. Lee," a soft voice says.

I turn. Another woman stands in the doorway. She has beautiful white-blonde hair - left down to drape over her shoulders - and stunning light brown eyes. Her face is soft and kind, and there's a twinkle in her eye.

The stiff woman nods... well, _stiffly_ , and leaves the classroom.

The younger woman smiles. "Hello, sweetie. You must be Sydney. My name is Miss Piper. I'm your teacher."

"I-I'm sorry, I don't have my... transcripts?" I stammer, my pitch going up at the end in a question.

"It's alright, Sydney. Transcripts are for students transferring from other schools; you're not supposed to have any."

I sigh in relief. "Oh. Okay."

Miss Piper turns to the other girls. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Sydney Banner."

"Hello, Sydney," the entire class choruses.

Miss Piper smiles at me. "Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"

I look tentatively to the assortment of girls. "Um... my name is Sydney, like Miss Piper said. I'm fourteen. I'm from Manhattan. I was adopted when I was 3 and a half. I've been home-schooled since age 5..." I trail off, not sure what else to say.

"Thank you, Sydney," the teacher says. "We all hope you like it here at VA. Now, we need to get you a seat..." She scans the room. "Ah, there's an empty one, right next to Sadie. Will you raise your hand for Sydney, please?" An olive-skinned girl with light blue eyes puts her hand up. "Thank you. Sydney, you can sit right there."

I nod nervously and make my way to the empty desk. The room is still and quiet as everyone watches me walk down the skinny aisle between desks.

I sit down beside the girl named Sadie.

"Hi!" she says, smiling brightly. "I'm Sadie Marx." I can't make myself look away from her face. "What, my eyes? Oh, yeah, everyone always asks. My mom's Italian; my dad is from California. I've got a bit of both."

I blush, embarrassed for staring.

Sadie laughs. "It's okay, Sydney. I don't mind. I've gotten used to it."

I smile tentatively at her. I like the way she says my name, as if she knows me, as if we are best friends and have been forever.

 _Maybe, just maybe, it won't be so bad here_ , I think.

Miss Piper clears her throat and everyone looks to her.

"Alright, girls, listen up. Sorry I was running late; my bus was late today. But we won't let being a few minutes behind stop us! Everyone turn your attention to the SmartBoard. Let's watch CNN Student News."

The familiar intro music of the 10 minute news webshow starts up. I've seen it before; after each battle the team had with some bad guy or another, I would sit in my room the next day and watch as the show's anchor, Carl Azuz, report on the damage to whatever city, and what witnesses had seen. It made me upset most of the time; sometimes I even cried. But I never stopped watching, because it was about the people I love, and I needed to know they were okay.

This time, I'm looking forward to watching it for any other reason than to worry. I lean back in my chair and wait for the stories from around the world that will surely make my current situation seem insignificant.

_"I don't really know what I saw, I just stood there in shock. Obviously weird things happen in New York all the time but... this was just sad."_

Carl Azuz replaced the man on the screen. _"You just heard a testimony from an average citizen of Manhattan, New York, who just yesterday witnessed something that has the world baffled. Yesterday afternoon, a teenage girl was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of Stark Tower, or as most people know it, Avengers Tower. A few people we talked to claim they heard her screaming No and Dad. Although no one saw him, witnesses claim they heard reassurances being shouted by a man, and it came from the direction of the Avengers."_

I suddenly have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I look around the room. All eyes are glued to the screen.

A shaky video comes up - obviously from a cell phone or digital camera. _They need a StarkPhone_ , I think, an automatic thought.

Then I realize what the video is.

Practically the entire thing is blurred, but everything is still recognizable: after all, it isn't easy to mistake Stark Tower. The sound is off, too; all noises are muffled and indistinct. For a moment, I think I'm safe.

The only thing that's actually in focus, of course, is my face.

Everyone turns around to stare at me. I try to shrink myself into my seat.

So much for that.

On screen, Carl Azuz continues his report, unaware that he is currently ruining my brand-new life. _"We have an employee of Stark Tower on webchat with us today to tell us more about this mysterious girl."_

Everyone focuses back on the screen, riveted by the sudden advance in information.

I start to wonder if I can possibly slip out the window.

On the SmartBoard, a fuzzy image of a man appears. I recognize him vaguely; he works on the main floor, in the lobby, I think.

 _"Thank you for joining us today,"_ Carl says. _"So tell us: who is this girl?"_

**"Well, I've only worked at Avengers Tower for about half a year, so I'm not totally up to date with the gossip. But a couple people from each department has been up to the living quarters at some point, so there are rumors circulating all the time."**

_"So according to those people, who exactly is she?"_

**"That's a good question. From what I can tell, she's been living in the Tower for years; I think she's fourteen. In any case, her name is something with an _S_ sound. Cindy? Sydney? Something like that."**

_"Do you know who she is, though?"_

The man shakes his head. **"Talk around the Tower is she's adopted. Some think she's from Asgard, like Thor, but most say her father is Dr. Bruce Banner."**

Carl looks confused. _"Banner? I'm not familiar with him."_

**"You wouldn't be. He's not well known by his actual name, more by what the public calls him."**

_"And what is that?"_

**"He's the Hulk."**

Silence reigns, both on screen and in the room. All eyes are once again on me. No one moves.

Finally, Miss Piper clears her throat and blinks. "Well, I think that's enough of CNN Student News for today." But even as she turns off the SmartBoard and exits the Internet browser, I know the damage is done. No one seems to know what to say, or even what to do, because everyone is too busy staring at me.

Eventually, one girl says, "You're the Hulk's _daughter?!_ "

And all hell breaks loose.

_~Isolation~_

The first and only time I snuck out of bed out of bed, I had been officially living in the Tower for a day.

I can't really be blamed. I mean, it was a new building, and the only place I'd been before was the basement. I was only three; three-year-olds are curious!

Anyway, I'd left my room and made it halfway down the hall before I remembered JARVIS.

The voice in the ceiling scared me. It was loud and sounded weird, and it came out of nowhere. Bruce had tried explaining it to me several times, telling me how it was a machine, not a person, and there were speakers in the walls, which was where the sound came through. I still didn't get it, though; if there wasn't a person, then how was there a voice?

I remembered something Bruce had whispered to JARVIS that night before putting me to bed in a room on the top floor, which he said was my new bedroom. _"If she wakes up at night, let me know."_ I didn't know how JARVIS would know, but I knew he would tell Bruce. I hurried to the stairs and carefully made my way down.

The walk was long, and soon I was sweating and tired. I sat down on a step and closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew, I was woken up by pounding footsteps. They stopped right next to me.

"Sydney! Oh, thank God," a voice said.

I blinked my eyes open slowly and found myself looking right at Bruce's face. I wasn't quite able to detect emotions, but I thought he looked relieved.

"JARVIS, tell everyone to meet me in the living room," he ordered before putting my on his hip and walking down more stairs.

In the living room, I saw everyone I had met the day before. I couldn't remember names very well, so I had labeled them in my mind. Present were the Red Ladies,Ponytail, Tall Man, Bird Guy, and the Man with the Blue Light.

"Where was she?" one of the Red Ladies asked, standing up from the couch.

"On the stairs," Bruce answered. "I think someone decided to take a little walk last night." He sat down on a chair and set me on his lap, looking me in the eye. "Sydney," he started, sounding very serious. "Why did you get out of bed?"

I just stared at him. I was fascinated by the way his mouth moved to form words, and how they came out. Why couldn't I do that?

He seemed to realize my problem. "Oh, yeah. You can't talk." He thought for a moment. "Okay. How about this: Did you get out of bed because you were thirsty?"

I shook my head.

"Were you hungry? Scared of the dark? Just scared?"

Each guess was answered by a shake of my head.

Bruce frowned. "Then why - " He suddenly got it. "You didn't know where you were."

Not a question, but I nodded anyway.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Sydney. I should've showed you around yesterday. This is your new home, after all; you deserve to know your way around. Tell you what: let's eat breakfast, and then I will personally give you a tour of the Tower. Okay?"

I nodded shyly. Bruce smiled widely, like he was pleased, and then picked me up to carry me into the kitchen.

It was at that moment, I think, that I realized exactly what I meant to Dr. Bruce Banner.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

**SVP**

_"New reports claim that the 'Avenger Child' – now officially confirmed to be fourteen-year-old Sydney Banner – has been placed in a foster home and is registered to attend Visual Arts School for Girls. Very little has been heard from any of the six Avengers, and questions have already started circling: Why was Sydney kept a secret? How was she kept a secret? Some people aren't waiting for answers and have instead come up with their own theories, including Sydney being a part of some science experiment._

_"Whatever the truth is, you know we'll bring it to you straight forward when it comes. I'm Monica Smi-"_

I shut off my StarkTab Prime and toss it at the end of the bed. It hits the comforter and slides to the wooden floor, where it lies, perfectly fine. Of course. Not only does Tony make his electronics transparent, he also makes them crack-proof. Impossible, you say?

Ladies and gentlemen: Tony Stark.

My stomach grumbles. I sigh and pull out a plastic Ziplock baggie of grapes from my hoodie pocket. I haven't left this bedroom in days, relying on "my foster mom" Melanie to bring me meals and snacks from the vegetarian store down the black. She's been kind and understanding, not pushing me to come out or talk. I feel kind of bad: she's been so good about everything, and I won't even say anything to her except _thank you_. But I can't bring myself to be friendly. There's nothing for me to be happy about.

There's a knock on the door.

"I'm good, Melanie!" I call.

She knocks again.

"I've still got food, I'm good!" Maybe she didn't hear me.

"Sydney?"

I freeze.

Sadie tries again. "Sydney? I know you probably don't wanna talk, but can I come in?"

When I don't reply, she opens the door a bit, then a bit more, then slips inside quickly.

I find my voice. "You here to confirm the theories? Checking to see if I'm human or not?" The words are bitter.

Sadie blinks her light blue eyes at my tone. "Of course not. Is that why you're holed up in here? You're worried about people's reactions to the news?"

I scoff. "Oh, I already know their reactions. That's why I haven't gone back."

She knows where I mean.

"Oh, Sydney," she says. She walks closer, picks up my StarkTab, and sets it on the desk before taking a seat on the end of my bed. "No one at school thinks you're an experiment. Everyone's worried about you. You just ran out of the room the other day and no one heard anything for a while. We all want you to come back."

"Yeah, to stare at me," I mutter.

"No." Her firm tone shocks me, and I look up into her suddenly piercing eyes. "Sydney, _everyone_ in that class has problems. Calliope has lived in so many different countries she can't even remember where she was born. Rushlee's mom is in prison for murder. Fallon is from Russia, so almost no one understands her. Ree stutters, Kinzie talks with a lisp, Hadley tried to commit suicide, and Sage is the fifth of fifteen kids. Briar is blind, Olivia is mute, Liah is deaf, and Lily has cancer. _No one_ is as messed up as the group of us is. Did you know the teachers pick their students based on background reports? Miss Piper is the one who takes us, all the rejects, the ones no one wants to deal with.

"So stop thinking that everyone is going to treat you like a freak. We're all screwed up, Sydney. And we want to help you."

I stare at Sadie in shock. I don't know who any of those girls are, and yet I have an idea. I remember seeing a light-haired girl with a stained, wrinkled uniform, and another one wearing a bandana over her head. There was a walking stick leaning against one desk. I think of Miss Piper's kind face. How can any one person be so generous, so good as to take in the kids no one else wants?

I remember thinking the girls looked ready to eat me alive. Could I have been wrong?

I blink at Sadie. "What about you? What's your story?"

She looks down suddenly, and when she looks up again, her eyes are guarded. "So anyway, what exactly is _your_ deal? I only know what's on the news, and from what the reporters are saying, none of the Avengers have spoken up. Are you really the Hulk's daughter?"

I glance at her sharply. "No, I'm not. I'm _Bruce Banner's_ daughter. He's not the same as the Other Guy. There's a reason no one knew his real name."

Sadie holds her hands up. "Ok, ok. You're Dr. Banner's daughter. Who is your mother?"

I sigh, knowing I won't get out of this. "I don't know who my biological parents are, or where they are, and frankly, I don't _want_ to know. They abandoned me in a hospital the day I was born. At a year old, I got really sick. I lived in an orphanage until I was three and a half, when Bruce found me and took me back to the Tower and cured me. After all that, he decided to adopt me. Ever since, I've been Sydney Banner. I was raised by the Avengers; they're my family. My only family. And now I have no one." Tears fill my eyes. Embarrassed, I turn onto my side and bury my face in the pillow.

Sadie is silent. For a moment, I think she's somehow gone without me noticing. Then I feel a hesitant hand on my back, rubbing it soothingly through my shirt.

"It's alright, Sydney. Everything's going to be alright," she whispers.

We stay like that for a long time, saying nothing, just her comforting me as silent tears stream down my cheeks.

Finally, I sit up and wipe my eyes. "Sorry about that," I apologize roughly.

She smiles softly. "It's fine. I know how it is to lose the people you love."

I look at her questioningly.

She looks down at her hands in her lap. "A couple years ago, my mother was deported back to Italy. After she was gone, my father couldn't stand to even look at me. He dumped me at my second cousin's house and moved back to California. At least, that's what Cecile tells me. I don't even know. I haven't heard from him since I was eight."

I put my hand on hers. "It's okay, Sadie."

I don't know what else to say, but that seems to be enough. She smiles at me. "Well, at least one of us can still talk to her family, huh?"

I shake my head. "Not me. It's against the rules. Apparently, any direct contact between me and any of them is 'forbidden'."

"What exactly does 'forbidden' entail?"

I sigh. "Oh, you know: phone calls, video chat, emails, instant messaging, letters, texts, social media, and good old-fashion face to face interaction. I'm practically being denied all contact with everyone from my old life, with a few exceptions."

"Exceptions?"

"Yeah: Thor's girlfriend Jane, Jane's best friend Darcy, Tony's wife Pepper, and a friend of the family, Maria." I sigh again. "I can't even get close to the Tower."

She thinks for a second. Suddenly, her eyes light up.

"Sydney! I've got an idea!"

I'm startled by her exclamation. "What?"

Her eyes are bright. "You can't have any contact with the Avengers – _but I can._ "

I stare at her. "Huh?"

She looks ecstatic. "I'll go to Manhattan, to Stark Tower, and get myself in to talk to Mr. Stark. I'm sure he'll see me if he knows it's for you. I can even talk to your dad, if he's willing."

I let it sink in, and then, slowly, I smile.

_~Isolation~_

**BVP**

I'm sitting on Sydney's old bed when JARVIS notifies me.

"Dr. Banner, there is a young lady in the lobby asking to speak with you."

My first thought, of course, is _Sydney's back_. But when I pull up the security feed on my tablet, I see a tall girl with black hair in low pigtails standing at the front desk, and I berate myself. Of course it isn't Sydney. Sydney is in a foster home somewhere, maybe not even in New York. I'm not allowed contact with her. How would she be here?

I'm confused about why a random teenager would want to see me, but I sigh and tell JARVIS I'll be right down.

I arrive at the lobby a minute later. The moment the girl sees me, she rushes over. I note that she's wearing what looks to be a private school uniform. The ribbons on her pigtails say _VA_.

"Dr. Banner? I know you're probably really confused about who I am and don't want to talk to me or really anyone, period, but I'm here on behalf of _Bean_."

I wave off the receptionist, who is half-standing, ready to pull this girl away if I request it. But I can't. It only takes a moment for me to process what has just been implied.

"Of course, Miss…" I glance at her visitor's nametag, "Marx. Right this way."

_~Isolation~_

I take her to Sydney's bedroom.

I know, I know, it sounds bad. Maybe it even looks bad to Miss Marx. But this is about my baby girl, and I want the news – however good or bad – to be heard in my child's space.

We sit down, me in the desk chair, she, surprisingly, on one of Sydney's fat, fluffy beanbag chairs in her reading nook. For a moment, neither of us says a word. Then I clear my throat.

"So, Miss Marx –"

"My first name is Sadie," she interrupts.

I nod. "Sadie, then. What exactly did you mean in the lobby?"

She pulls a cell phone – not one from StarkTech, but an iPhone – from her jacket pocket and taps the screen a couple times. She holds the device out for me to take. When I look, I see a picture of her and another girl, a girl with familiar glasses and an even more familiar smile….

"Sydney," I murmur.

Sadie nods. "Sydney is in my class at school. Right now, she's living with a foster mom in New York City." _So she_ is _in New York_. "Sydney's… well, she's not doing so great."

Immediate alarms ring in my head. "Why? What happened?" Every bad scenario runs through my mind on repeat.

Sadie is quick to reassure me. "Nothing happened, not really. She's fine, physically. Mentally and emotionally, though…." She sighs. "Sydney's first day of school was Friday. She seemed really quiet when she came into our classroom, but Miss Piper sat her next to me, and I thought I was getting through to her, because she smiled. But then we started watching CNN Student News, and…." She trails off.

I understand. "They showed the video, didn't they? And everyone saw her and started asking questions, and she panicked and ran away?"

My daughter's classmate nods. "Honestly, it's not a big deal to any of us. Like I told her, every one of us in that class has some problem or another. It was just a shock."

I sigh. "Sydney's always had that little quirk. When she was younger, oh, about a week or two after I adopted her, Natasha took her out to buy some more clothes. She'd never really been outside much, and she got really overwhelmed and panicked and ran off. Tasha found her twenty minutes later, hidden in some bushes in Washington Square Park. She can't help it; she just has a natural urge to escape when she's the center of attention or when she gets overwhelmed. It's pretty easy to find her; she heads for small spaces."

Sadie is smiling slightly, and I realize that she's trying to contain laughter. "Sydney said she loves Clint, but he's a bad influence on her because he taught her to hide up high!" she giggles.

I chuckle as well. "He's definitely had good and bad impact on her."

After we calm down, Sadie takes a small rectangular case from her book bag and unzips it, revealing Sydney's tablet. How do I know it's hers? It's a StarkTab Prime, which won't be released until next year. Sydney, Pepper, Jane, Darcy, and the team are the only people who have this generation.

"Sydney let me borrow this. She didn't ask me to ask you, but I thought… well, she _really_ misses you, and the other Avengers. I just thought maybe you could all make a video of yourselves for her. You know, give her something to watch when she's feeling especially down?"

I take the tablet from her and nod. "That's a great idea. I'll get the others in here."

"Already done, Dr. Banner," a disembodied voice informs me.

I glance at Sadie, but she doesn't look shocked. "Sydney told me about JARVIS," she says in answer to my questioning gaze.

I hear the doors of the elevator at the end of the hall open and prepare myself for what's to come.

_~Isolation~_

An hour later, Sadie is just about to leave when I remember something.

She waits as I rush back to Sydney's room and return with a metal box.

"What's that?" she asks.

I hold the container out so she can look through the mesh-covered, gate-like door.

"Is that a _dog?_ " she says, incredulous. "It looks dead."

I smile slightly. So Sydney hasn't told her. "His name is Snoopy," I explain. "He's not real, exactly, just a robot made in Tony's workshop, but he functions almost exactly like a normal dog. He was a present from Tony and Steve for Sydney's fifth birthday. She didn't want to take him with her when she left – she was afraid they wouldn't let her keep him – but she loves this dog more than anything, and I know she's probably missing him. Will you take it to her?"

Sadie reaches out and takes the crate. "Of course."

I nod and walk her to the front doors of the Tower. Before she opens them, though, she surprises me by turning around and giving me a tight one-armed hug.

"You're wrong, Dr. Banner. Sydney may love Snoopy a lot, and of course she loves the rest of the Avengers, but there is no doubt anywhere in my mind, _at all_ , that you are the most important person to her. She loves you more than her own life. Don't ever doubt that."

I watch in a bit of a daze as Sadie strides outside, hails a taxi, and heads back to New York City, my mind consumed with happiness, grateful that my little girl has found such an amazing friend.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

**SVP**

I sit nervously on the bed, waiting for Sadie to return. When I hear a knock on the door, I leap to my feet. "Who is it?"

"Sydney?" Melanie says. "Your friend Sadie is here. Do you want me to let her in?"

"Yes!" I cringe at the eagerness in my voice.

"Alright. I'll bring you girls up some snacks in a bit." I can hear the suppressed delight at my response and know she's smiling.

The door clicks open and Sadie comes in, a covered rectangle in her hands. "What's under the blanket?" I ask.

"Hey, Syd," she says, looking quite pleased with herself. "I'm great, thanks for asking. A change of clothes? Why yes, thank you, I'd love something to replace my soaked outfit."

Only then do I realize it's raining outside and that she's soaked to the bone. I go to the closet and pull out a red t-shirt with the quote "If I get the urge to burst into flames, I'll let you know" on it, a pair of ripped dark-wash skinny jeans, and a black sweatshirt that says "I hate getting prank calls from the Underworld". She changes in the room (hey, we're both girls, it's nothing I ain't seen before) and then lounges on the bed, perfectly aware that I'm about to have an anxiety attack from anticipation.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. "What happened at the Tower?!"

Sadie looks up at me calmly. "Well that's not very polite."

I roll my eyes. " _Sa-dieeee_. I'm _dying_ here. Please, I can't take it. Did you talk to my dad or not?"

At the pain in my voice, she drops the pretense. "Yes, I did. And I can tell you, Sydney, that he is in just as much pain as you."

She gestures for me to sit beside her. I flop down and hug a pillow to my stomach.

"What did he say?" I ask quietly.

Sadie puts an arm around my shoulders. "He was desperate for information. He wanted to know everything about you, about school, about Melanie and Miss Piper and all our classmates. And since I know you're missing _everyone_ , I suggested they make a video message for you."

My eyes get wide.

Sadie pulls out my StarkTab Prime that I'd let her borrow. She calls up a file and hands the tablet to me.

I almost stop breathing when I see the face on the screen.

"Hey, Sydney Bean," my dad says. He looks the same as always, but tired, ragged. I've seen him every day for eleven years, and yet I've never seen him like this.

Did I do that?

"I don't know where you're watching this, or when, but there are things I want to say, and I'm going to say them now."

 _"Give me that before you get all soppy,"_ an off-screen voice says. There's rustling, and the video blurs a bit as the camera is turned around.

"Heya, Syddie-girl!" Tony grins. "Ha, you're not here to tell me not to call you that. I'm claiming this as a victory, thank you very much." I roll my eyes. No matter what the circumstance, Tony is Tony. "So first off, I just thought you should know that I've decided to blame you for the pitiful state of the inhabitants of my tower. Everything is sad and dull around here, and I don't like it. Even Dummy is depressed! You better get your butt back here soon, Syddie-bird, or I'm coming after you."

 _"Stop threatening her, Tin Can,"_ another voice cuts in. _"Give it to me."_

More movement, and then Clint's face fills the screen.

"How you holding up, Syd? Huh, guess you can't really answer that. Oh, well. I was just asking to be polite, anyway. So I hear you got yourself a new girlie friend. Have fun with that. By the way, if anyone at that stupid school messes with you, an elbow to the gut, face, and throat always works."

 _"Stop encouraging my niece to use violence,"_ a familiar female voice scolds.

Toshie's face appears.

"You're a smart girl, Sydney. You know not to listen to Clint, right? Violence is not always the answer, no matter how much we are resorted to using it. And don't worry about Tony, he's not going anywhere. You just keep being the good girl you are and stay out of trouble, mkay? That's my Sydney."

 _"I believe it is now my turn,"_ a fourth voice cuts in.

Thor's large, muscular body fills the screen.

"Greetings, Sydney. I am pleased to learn that you have a companion at your new place of learning. It is my sincerest hope that you are not entirely unhappy, and that you do not long too much for the Tower of the Avengers. I greatly hope to see you again soon."

Stifling a laugh at Thor's ever-present formalities, I watch as the device is handed to Steve. He looks at it warily (he's still not extremely comfortable with electronics, even after twelve years) and then at the camera.

"Well, Sydney, I think they've pretty much said it all. Be careful of the bullies and anyone who tries to put you or anyone else below them. I trust you're taking care of yourself. We're here for you, sweetie. Remember that."

Finally, _finally_ , the StarkTab is handed back to my father. In the background, I can hear everyone else leaving the room.

"I didn't even stay for this," Sadie whispers to me.

"I never wanted to tell you this way. I thought I had time, and I hoped I was wrong because if I was right it would mean you're in even more danger than I previously feared. I should have told you this a long time ago, but I wasn't sure. After what happened at dinner a few weeks ago, and some renewed research, I'm almost positive."

He sighs. "Sydney, when you came to me at the age of three, and I cured you, it wasn't of the disease I thought it was. It turns out, you weren't sick at all.

"A few weeks ago, during dinner, you announced that you were feeling dizzy. Not a minute later, your hair started moving. It was only for a moment, and afterwards you acted as if nothing had happened. I looked into it and, well, this is what I found."

He holds up his own tablet to display a web page.

"Prehensility," he states. "Normally the word is used to describe animal appendages that can move and grab – such as an elephant's trunk or a monkey's feet – but in your case, it's your hair.

"Now, I don't know why you can do this, or how, but I'm working on getting some answers. I've asked Sadie to get a sample of your hair so I can study it. In the meantime, I don't want you to worry; it's not dangerous, and it won't kill you. Trust me."

He gives me a small smile. "I love you, Sydney Bean. You are, have been, and always will be, my daughter."

The screen goes black.

Sadie and I sit in silence for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say. Finally, she opens her mouth to speak.

"Please," I interrupt. "Don't say anything. It's okay for you to hate me; I know I'm a freak. I won't hold it against you if you leave."

"Sydney, I would never leave you."

I stare at my friend. "Why?"

Sadie takes a deep breath. "Sydney, I went to Stark Tower. I met your father. I have never met a man more dedicated to a single person than Dr. Bruce Banner is to you. You mean the world to him. He's going to figure this out; you know he will. And I'm going to be here with you, because friends don't leave friends alone when their father drops the prehensile hair bomb on them."

I smile slightly. "Well, then. I guess you're in for the long run."

She smiles back. "Your dad gave me something to give to you." She gets up and walks to the covered rectangle she brought with her.

When she turns back around, I can only stare.

"… Snoopy?" I say softly.

I rush forward and unlatch the crate door, reaching in and pulling out my precious puppy.

" _RYCBAR_ ," I spell out. (What? It's the only thing Clint wouldn't think of, since he refuses to stick around when I watch _Doctor Who_.)

My puppy stirs in my arms, coming to life with a yawn and a wag of his tail. When he sees me, he yips happily and licks my face. I don't know how Tony did it, but Snoopy's tongue is just as wet, cold, and slimy as any real dog's.

"I missed you, too, sweetie." I cradle my dog against my chest and sigh in contentment.

There's a knock on the door. "Sydney? I was just bringing up a snack and I heard a yip, are you girls alright?"

"We're fine, Mel. Everything is perfect."

"May I come in?"

Sadie opens the door. Melanie comes in, carrying a tray with cookies and milk. When she sees what's in my arms, she sets the tray down heavily on my desk, causing the milk to slosh around in the glasses.

She stares. "Is that a dog?"

I hold him protectively. "Snoopy is a one-of-a-kind Stark invention. He's not real, but he acts like any normal dog. He's my baby and I'm not letting him go ever again!" I know I sound like a two-year-old, but I can't help it. No one is taking away my puppy.

"I brought him from Stark Tower," Sadie adds. "Her father wanted her to have him."

Melanie stares at her. "You got him from Stark Tower? But Sydney's not –"

"That's why Sadie went," I cut in. "She offered because I miss my family and I wanted my dad to know I'm alright. He gets official reports, but it's not the same. I haven't talked to him, I swear. I haven't spoken a word to any of them since I was taken away. Please," I whisper. "Let me keep Snoopy."

Mel looks conflicted, but finally she sighs. "Alright," she agrees. "I won't say anything. But if you plan to keep contact with the Avengers through Sadie, be careful. I don't want either of you getting into trouble, capiche?"

Both Sadie and I nod eagerly.

Mel sighs again. "Alright, then. Let me know if you need anything else. Sadie, I'll put your clothes in the dryer for you."

"Thank you," Sadie says. Mel nods and leaves.

I sigh in relief. "Well, now that's over."

"Not quite."

I look at Sadie. "What do you mean?"

She holds up a clear vial and a pair of scissors. "Your dad still needs some hair."


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Eight

**SVP**

I stand outside the classroom door, taking deep breaths to calm myself. Next to me, Sadie holds my hand reassuringly.

"It's alright, Syds," she murmurs. "You can do this."

I exhale one last gust and nod. She opens the door.

The moment we walk in, everyone stares. I fidget nervously but ignore the urge to dart. Their stares aren't threatening or even particularly nasty – they just look curious. After a few seconds, they go back to their various activities.

_Every girl in this room has a story_ , I think. _To them, I'm nothing more than another outcast._ I can't help but think I might prefer it this way.

Miss Piper stands up from behind her desk. "Hello, again, Sydney," she says softly, smiling. "Welcome back."

I duck my head, embarrassment staining my cheeks. "Hello, Miss Piper."

As Sadie leads me to our seats, Miss Piper raises her voice and holds up her hands. Immediately, everyone falls silent.

"First of all, welcome back to school. It's Monday, isn't that great!" For the first time, I realize she is signing while talking. It must be for Liah's benefit. "Second, I would like to extend a very warm 'welcome back' to our own Sydney Banner, who has decided to rejoin our class."

Everyone claps, and some even cheer, causing the red to paint my face again.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

"Now, normally we would watch the news, but today I figured –"

"No," I say. Everyone looks at me, but I don't care. I know why Miss Piper is changing the routine. "We can watch it."

Miss Piper looks at me uncertainly.

"It's okay," I insist.

She hesitates another second and then nods and pulls the program up on the SmartBoard.

"Welcome to CNN Student News. I'm Carl Azuz.

"Today, we have a surprise. Just yesterday afternoon, we received an offer for a video interview. Now this person agreed to one interview, set up yesterday evening, and we automatically took the opportunity. When you see who it is, I'm sure you'll understand why; take a look."

A new video pops up. I struggle to suppress a shout of surprise.

Because on the screen, sitting in what I identify as one of Tony's mostly-unused workshops, is a very familiar redhead.

A female reporter – Anya Newhouse, I believe – appears in a corner of the screen. She smiles, but you can totally tell she's beyond nervous (at least, _I_ can tell).

"Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed, Ms. Romanoff," Anya says.

Nat smiles. "Please, call me Natasha," she insists.

"Of course," Anya replies. "Now, I'm sure you're aware of the multitude of questions the public has for the Avengers regarding Sydney Banner. One big question on _everybody's_ mind: where exactly did Sydney come from?"

I can tell Nat's been through all possible questions and answers several times already. She continues to look calm. "Sydney was three and a half when Dr. Banner found her in a low-profit orphanage in Brooklyn. She was sick, and he brought her back to the Tower and cured her. Afterwards, he couldn't bear to let her go; she'd grown on him in only a week. So, with Tony Stark's permission, of course, Sydney was officially adopted into the family."

Anya nods. "Why do you think Social Services remove her from the premises? Is there something the Avengers are hiding?"

Nat gives her a sweet smile that I know to be a warning. "I have no clue why she was removed from our household, other than the fact that the state, or the government in general, is uncomfortable with the idea of a supposedly-unpredictable man could be a parent. Sydney has been well cared for, and has been homeschooled from the start. There is nothing sinister about her adoption into our family."

"That's another thing. The man, who we really only have experience with as the Hulk, has been raising a child for eleven years. That has raised some concern amongst the public, especially about his qualifications as a father. Any comment?"

Tasha's smile turns razor-sharp. "What qualifies someone to be a parent? There are parents all over the world who abuse their children, and yet they're still parents. Having the ability to become something strong is no reason that someone is 'unqualified' to raise a child. What really makes a parent is if you _care_. And Bruce cares about Sydney more than anyone else, even more than the rest of us in this Tower combined."

Anya hurries on. "And the homeschooling?"

"That was Sydney's decision. When she was five, we discussed the pros and cons of sending her to kindergarten. We worried about how other kids would react to her; she was delayed in speech and walking due to neglect at the orphanage. When Sydney heard us talking, she firmly claimed that she had no desire or intention to leave the Tower five days a week. After that it was final; the six of us became her teachers."

"What do you have to say for the rumors about the secrets hidden in Avengers Tower?"

"There's absolutely nothing going on in the Tower that can't be shared with the public. I assure you, we have no illegal experimentation going on here. It's merely a home and a workplace. There are tours of the Tower where you can walk through the more public rooms. It's not all open for viewing because people do live and work here."

Then, seemingly out of the blue – though I know SHIELD well enough to know it's somewhat planned – she says, quietly, "All we want is for our family to be together again. We want our daughter, our niece, our little sister to be returned to us, to be where she belongs."

After that tidal wave of emotion, Miss Piper turns off the news and clears her throat. "Alright, then. That's enough for today. Now let's turn our attention to the next Greek myth in our English textbooks…."

_~Isolation~_

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Sadie looks concerned. I haven't told her what I'm planning to do, but she can obviously tell it's not something I'm going to enjoy.

I nod, trying to appear confident. "I'll be fine. Seeing Toshie was difficult, but I'm glad she did that interview. I'm sick of everyone's theories; maybe now they'll leave it alone." I highly doubt it, but I'm trying a new thing called "being positive".

Sadie looks unconvinced, but she sighs. "Alright. I'll go. But if you need anything, you know how to reach me. Cecile will come pick you up so you don't have to walk and get stared at."

I smile. "Of course, Sadie. Thank you." _Too formal-sounding._ "I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

She gives me a weird look but nods and leaves.

As soon as the door closes behind her, my smile vanishes.

I don't have much – only what I brought from the Tower, what I was given for school, and the essentials that are brought to me by Melanie – but I keep a shoebox under the bed. The box holds little things, pictures from home, drawings done by Steve, a random arrowhead that somehow ended up in Snoopy's cage (it's one of Clint's tech-arrows, the ones he uses for hacking; I'm pretty sure I know what he was trying to do).

In the bottom, under a little board book of _Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?_ that I keep for sentimental purposes – it was the first thing I learned to read – is a slip of paper. On one side it has the number _313_. On the other is a name, Laurel Mace, and a phone number.

I don't know why I've been putting this off. I guess I just didn't want to admit this is really happening. But seeing Natasha on the news, hearing her talk about how much the team wants me home, has snapped me out of my fantasy that this will all blow over. I know what I need to do now, and I know that means taking the initiative.

I enter the number into my StarkPhone Prime (another thing that hasn't been released) and hit call. Holding my breath, I wait for someone to pick up.

_"Hello, Paul Weiss Law Firm, Colleen speaking, how may I help you?"_

I release the air from my lungs and find my voice.

"My name is Sydney. May I please speak to Laurel Mace?"


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

**SVP**

"Miss Green?"

I look up and meet the eyes of the smiling receptionist. I nod.

Her teeth are really white. "Miss Mace will see you now."

Getting to my feet and grabbing my bag, I follow her down a long hallway to a closed door. Knocking quietly, she waits for an almost inaudible "Come in" before letting me in and shutting the door behind me.

Sitting on one side of a big desk is a young woman, maybe in her early thirties. She's writing in a notebook, but the moment I enter she stops and turns her attention to me.

Standing, she holds out a hand. "Hello, Sydney. I'm Laurel Mace."

I shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Mace. Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Smiling, she gestures for me to sit. "It's no trouble at all. And please, call me Laurel." She turns toward a small fridge. "Would you like something to drink? Water, pop, juice…?"

"Water, please." I take the offered bottle. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She turns her attention fully to me and grows serious. "Sydney, you should know that if I'm going to help you, you need to be able to trust me. And the first step to trust is telling me the truth. We both know your last name isn't Green." When I don't say anything, she continues. "It's Banner, isn't it? You're Sydney Banner."

Looking at my hands in my lap, I nod.

"Sydney, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not going to treat you any differently because your father turns into the Hulk sometimes. In fact, I was pretty upset when I saw what happened on the news. I don't think it's right at all."

My head snaps up. "Really? Why?"

"I've been a lawyer for only a couple years, but I've seen enough cases where a child is unjustly taken from their home. My heart breaks every time, but I keep at it, because it happened to my sister and me." She leans across the desk towards me. "Sydney. I want to help you, but this is going to take time, and you're going to have to work with me. Alright?"

I nod.

"Alright. You're going to need to know what kind of case this is going to be. From what I've heard on the news – and what little you told me over the phone – we could be dealing with three types of lawsuits. Child custody is obviously one of them, but this could also be an adoption or a family law case. I need to know that we'll have evidence as well. Is there any way for you to get the adoption papers, along with any documents from medical visits?"

Without hesitation, I nod. "I can do that."

"Alright. First, though, I want to know about the visitation rights you have. How often are you allowed contact with your father?"

I shake my head in confusion. "Never. I was told I'm not allowed any contact of any form. I haven't spoken directly to anyone from the Tower since they removed me."

She stares. "None? You haven't heard a single word from them?"

"Well, except for when my friend –" I cut off abruptly, blushing.

Laurel looks eager. "Go on."

"Um… well, my friend – I'm not going to use her name because I don't want her getting in trouble – she went to the Tower over the weekend and talked to my dad. My whole family made a video message for her to bring to me, and my dad sent my mechanical dog back with her. So I haven't had any direct contact, but indirect? Yes."

"That's fine; you didn't talk to them, so it can't be used against us. But I just cannot believe they won't allow you to contact them! That goes against all regulated protocol. I'll be making some calls about this."

I'm silent while she makes a note and takes a breath. "Alright, now. I saw the interview with Natasha Romanoff, so I have some idea of your education, but I need you to clarify a bit. She said that the six of them – the Avengers – were the ones who taught you. What exactly were they teaching?"

I take a deep breath. "Okay. Well, all my English classes were taught by Steve Rogers, with my dad sometimes helping out. Tony Stark taught math, Dad taught science, and Steve taught History. Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and Thor all pitched in to help with Physical Education, which was basically me learning self-defense. And Natasha and Thor collaborated on Foreign Language."

Laurel looks intrigued. "What language were they teaching you?"

"Up until my removal, Tasha was working on Latin and Thor was attempting to make me understand Old Norse. But over the years, I've learned lots."

Over the next half hour, I answer numerous questions, going into extreme detail about everything I've been taught. Finally, Laurel closes her notebook and stands.

"That's enough for now. I have almost everything I need about your education except for proof."

"Proof?" I'm so confused.

She nods once. "In a few days, I'm going to have you come back in. There will be several tests for you to take on the subjects taught to you at the Tower. The results can be used as proof that your family has been looking out for you and your future."

"How many?"

She blows out a breath. "There are five main subjects that will be looked at – Math, Science, History, English, and Foreign Language – but due to all the different areas of these subjects that you've learned…." She sighs. "It could be up to eighteen."

I'm shocked into silence.

"I'll make sure you're released from school that day so you can just focus on the exams. These are important, Sydney. Education is a big concern in this case, and we'll need something more than your word to get the ruling on our side."

After a moment to process this, I blink and clear my throat. "O-okay," I agree. "When will these tests be?"

Laurel stands up and heads to the door. "I'm scheduling them for next Friday; that way you won't miss too much schoolwork. I'm sure you have friends who can catch you up?"

I nod and follow her down the hall. "Will my teacher know?"

"I'll make sure to shoot her an email. Who is your teacher?"

She notes the name on a sticky note and then shakes my hand. "It was nice meeting you. Remember, I'm here to help you, so anything you need don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, Laurel," I say sincerely.

She smiles. "I'll see you back here next Friday, _Miss Green_." She winks and heads back to her office.

Before I leave, I duck into the restroom and slip on my jacket, hat, and sunglasses. There's media everywhere in New York City; I don't want to be found.

I leave the building, take a deep breath, and smile. Maybe everything _will_ be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is really short, but I'm working on the next chapter and hope it'll be done soon. It'll be in Bruce's point-of-view again (finally).


End file.
